A displaced Californian composer writes about music made for the long while & the world around that music. ~
The avant-garde is flexibility of mind. — John Cage ~
...composition is only a very small thing, taken as a part of music as a whole, and it really shouldn't be separated from music making in general. — Douglas Leedy ~
My God, what has sound got to do with music! — Charles Ives

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Fragments of a composer's autobiography not found here.

...having left the colony a day early to do lunch at the Tea Room... ...director of the Met... ...a very important critic... ...dare broach the subject of a commission... ...so broke that I was down to my last suit and even that one had the rear seam held in place with masking tape... ...broke down on the shores of Lake Michigan... ...was flown over to judge a student competition... ...Edith Wharton or Henry James... ...developed a taste for alcohol... ...whirlwind tour... ...pyramids, pagodas, and the setting sun over the Seine... ...Morocco just a haze... ...jogging through Central Park... ...arrested, but the charges were dropped... ...forced to decide between taking the Rome prize or writing the opera... ...knocked over Virgil's gladioli, hoping he wouldn't take notice... ...the damn opera... ...brought a box of Belgian pralines and was instantly forgiven... ...abandoned the opera again... ...hoping for another Guggenheim... ...had to sell the piano, took a job a Woolworth's... ...came out as a tonal composer... ...and relieved himself in the Grand Canal, right before the Palazzo Grassi... ...not that a spare would have done any good -- 39 years old, stuck in Wyoming, and never learned to change a tire... ..."work of a genius"... ...stole small kisses in-between private lessons... ...skipped the concert but managed to phone in the review all the same... ...didn't know was only seventeen... ...knew the opera needed revisions but took the ovations all the same... .....completely innocent... ...had to sit next to Ned at the Academy dinner... ...overcooked, as usual... ...remember my first naive attempt at composition: The Red Caboose, in fat black and red crayon, seven measures of 4/4 on butcher paper... ...Juilliard or Curtis... ...know that opera will see the stage again before I...